


Put on the red light

by TyrantTirade



Series: Ty's porn collective! [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Barebacking, Biting, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Cop Steve, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Handcuffs, Humiliation, M/M, Public Sex, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 15:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrantTirade/pseuds/TyrantTirade
Summary: Steve's always had good eyes, twenty-twenty. So easily he notices something, some movement by the doors like someone fucking with a lock and that gets Steve grinning. He shines his lights right at them and watches as their movements come to a full stop. Completely freezing as the light shines on them.





	Put on the red light

**Author's Note:**

> Codename fuckface started talking about Steve as a cop fucking bucky in front of a convenient store where everyone can see for some reason??? I dont remember??? But then insisted i write the fic. So i wrote the fic, and this is what came of it. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

Normally night shifts are pretty boring for Steve. Most of his time is spent sitting in his cruiser watching the meager traffic from an empty lot under dim street lights. Sometimes he'll get something interesting, the occasional disturbance or drunk driver. 

Mostly though he just drives around passing time just like he is right now. 

Slowly he drives around a corner of the mall, lights on high so he can give the place a thorough security check. The street lights dont do much to light the place but he can see just enough with his own.

He drives at such a crawl that it manages to push a yawn out of him, the emptiness of the parking lot making him think that he's probably wasting his time. 

Finally though, he edges around the building again, reaching a section of the mall that's mostly just for maintenance and loading with a shop back entryway towards the side. Noticing a single, out of place car, parked precariously in the middle of the lot. 

That strikes Steve's attention, something finally, maybe? He slows more, looking through his passenger window as he turns into the actual loading bay. 

Steve's always had good eyes, twenty-twenty. So easily he notices something, some movement by the doors like someone fucking with a lock and that gets Steve grinning. He shines his lights right at them and watches as their movements come to a full stop. Completely freezing as the light shines on them. 

The person is clearly up to no good, wearing a loose black hoodie, hood up. 

Slowly the figure turns, pivoting, head down, hands slowly coming up until they're facing the car. Steve steps out, hand resting over his gun cautiously. 

“Turn and put your hands against the wall,” Steve shouts, authoritatively. 

Without question the criminal turns and presses against the wall, hands up, pushing the front of himself up against the bricks firmly. His hoodie rises up, showing the lower half of his back and his jeans that squeeze his ass nicely and Steve has to remind himself that he's on the job. The last thing he needs is to get sidetracked by some criminal ass.

As he fully approaches, Steve begins pulling his cuffs out of their holster, directing, “Put your hands behind your back.” 

Obediently the man does, quietly bringing his hands back until his hoodie lowers again. “Am i being arrested?” He asks. 

Steve grabs his hands, quickly fastening them into the metal cuffs against the small of his back and he cant help but grin, “Why would i be arresting you?” 

The guy shrugs, turning his head a little. “I don't know, you're putting handcuffs on me.” 

“Yeah,” Steve starts, “So you don't try anything stupid.” He reaches up, finally tugging the hood off of the man's head until he can fully see him, head turned enough to show his profile and a stupid smile on his face. 

“Got any i.d?” Steve asks. 

The guy nods, gesturing down, “Front pocket.” Which somehow gets him smiling more. 

“What's so funny?” Steve asks bluntly, “You might be in a lot of trouble.” He reaches around the guys torso, checking his left jean pocket until it comes up empty. 

“Other pocket.”

Steve rolls his eyes but still shifts sides, slowly lowering his hand until he can tuck it into the pocket. 

At first he finds nothing, no wallet, nothing at all, lowering his hand in more, feeling in deep until until there's...something. Definitely no wallet, but something.

Steve reaches in, slanting his hand to really grab at it and the guy smirks, breathing out a laugh.

“Is this a gun?” Steve asks, “You know you can get in a lot of trouble for not telling me that.”

The man shrugs and Steve's tired of his shit, he thinks. 

Heavily he shoves into his back, using his spare hand to push him forcefully by the neck deeper into the brick wall. 

The guy hisses before letting out a laugh and Steve grabs onto his dick tighter. “There's nothing funny here.”

Just to really enforce it he pushes into the man's pocket as far as he can manage, trying to grab at his dick the best that he can.

“Fuck you,” he groans in response, curling his hips into it. 

Finally Steve pulls his hand out of the pocket, other hand still on his neck, “Where's your i.d?” 

Laughing, the guy nods down again, “Front pocket. 

It takes nothing at all for Steve to reach in, finding the bulk of his wallet in the pocket of his hoodie and Steve wants to push him, tell him what a freak he is. 

He breathes out, trying to stay calm as he lets the guy go so he can walk to his car, “Stay where you are.” 

Inside it's just your everyday wallet, his id picture clearly him. Steve shakes his head, wondering how such a handsome guy could take on a life of crime like he has. 

The name on it reads James but on the other side, on a membership card it says Bucky. Steve's not one for getting friendly with criminals but he still finds himself walking back to the man, a few feet away as he asks, “So Bucky, what are you doing here this late?” 

Steve can see Bucky roll his eyes from the side, “I work here, i'm locking up and leaving through the back door.” he states calmly. 

“It looked to me like you were trying to break in,” Steve accuses. He moves his hands in to start patting the criminal down.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, voice annoyed. 

Steve shakes his head, stating the obvious, “Patting you down.” He brings his hands down Bucky's sides, over his hips and down his calves and then under and over his arms. 

“What do you think you're gonna find?” Bucky asks, “My gun?” The sarcasm in his voice obvious.

Steve grabs him by the hip, nudging him until he forcefully turns on his feet to face him.

He's...pretty, Steve thinks. His eyes all heavy, mouth open as he breathes in. It takes Steve a moment of staring to remember that he has a task at hand. Shaking his head, he goes back to patting him down. “Spread your legs.” 

Bucky smirks but still complies, moving his feet apart just enough for Steve to feel at the inside of his legs. He starts at the ankles, moving up until he reaches his inner thighs. 

Suddenly Bucky pushes his hips forward, the bulge of his dick in his jeans pressing against Steves arm and Steve quickly backs away, trying not to make things worse by giving the guy what he wants. “What are you doing?” 

Bucky shakes his head and then knocks it back against the wall. “You know you want it,” he murmurs, pushing his hips out again, “pig.” 

That's all it takes for adrenaline to rush through Steve, his hand comes up, grabbing at the guys jaw to shove him forcefully back into the wall. Hard enough to stun him, get his head pushed against the bricks but not enough to knock him out. 

Teeth showing, Bucky laughs like he's feral, before snarling, “Fuck you- pig.” 

Steve's hand stays clutched around his jaw, right above his neck, forcing his head back until it nearly digs it into the bricks but Bucky still manages to make a face, opening up his mouth as he spits at Steve, the wad of it landing against Steve's chest. 

His heart races with how pissed off this motherfucker has gotten him. He squeezes his hand tighter against his jaw to push him by the side of the face into the wall. His cuffed hands squished behind him. 

Steve knows he wouldn't try to get away regardless. 

He grabs at Bucky's dick with his free hand, stepping in as close as he can. “You just spit on me, but im the pig?” 

“Fuck you,” Bucky says again, through gritted teeth. His voice is deep and pissed off, brows furrowed angrily and god, that makes Steve grin. He's even prettier when he's mad.

Without warning Steve lets him go, taking a step back before twisting him around again. His feet stumble but before he can find footing Steve's shoving him by the face back into the wall. The clack of his teeth drowned out by a groan and a hiss, face ground into the jagged brick.

Steve turns, checking to make sure that they're completely alone. “I'll show you pig,” he growls, immediately yanking at the waist of Bucky's jeans until the curve of his ass keeps them from being pulled down further. 

Bucky huffs and snarls but still tilts his ass back so Steve can reach around to undo the button, making it easy to pull them down a little further. He doesn't even have to ask Bucky to spread his legs, doing it on his own accord as far as the jeans around his thighs will allow. 

Keeping him held by the neck against the wall, Steve lets his other hand trail down the swell of his ass, squeezing into the fat of it with a solid grip. It's a nice ass, he thinks, perfect.

“I see what you are now,” Steve starts, his nails dig into Bucky's ass harshly, making him gasp. “You're just a whore. Standing around waiting for someone to come by and use you. That's exactly what you are Isn't it?”

Bucky's face stays smashed against the brick, tongue out to lick at a scratch on his lip but he still manages an eye roll. 

For that Steve squeezes into his ass again, pulls at his neck to get the side of his cheek scraping against the wall. Wanting to tear him up. 

Suddenly, he feels how much control he has over him. He stretches in, biting at the nape of Bucky's neck like he's a mutt and he cant help himself from laughing at the moan that Bucky lets out. Pathetic. 

He bites in a few times, leaving deep teeth marks until Bucky's groaning. But just to really show him leaves a kiss there and then pulls away to get to it. 

His dick throbs and the sight of Bucky's ass, pushed back into his hand just makes it harder. “You want it bad, dont you?” he mumbles. 

Bucky growls, guttarly, and tries to look away. Ears getting red. It's not a no though, that's all that matters to Steve.

He slides the palm of his hand, fingers dry, down the crease of Bucky's ass, just flat over it. But Still Bucky groans, soft and needy and Steve wants to fucking destroy him. “Bend over more,” he instructs, “That's what you're best at, i know you can.” 

Bucky shakes his head defiantly, keeping his legs in place. 

Digging his fingers into his neck, Steve brings his hand down, slapping him hard on the ass. His fingers clutch into the curve of Bucky's hip bones, right under his hoodie and it takes nothing at all for Steve to yank him back. 

Bucky's thrown off balance, feet scraping the pavement but with his hands cuffed behind his back he cant catch himself, face skidding down the grit of the wall until he cries out painfully, hissing through his teeth.

He's just about held up by his face but that's perfect Steve thinks, it gets his back arched and his ass out and it must hurt but his dick is clearly hard between his thighs and that's enough of a yes for Steve. 

“Should probably check in here shouldn't I?” Steve mumbles, sliding his hand back down Bucky's ass. “I bet you have drugs in here don't you? That's where you would keep that, isnt it?” 

Bucky's cheek has a thin trail of blood going down it, eyes wet, drooling, a fucking mess, but still he laughs and shakes his head, rasping, “You better check to make sure.” 

As much as Steve wants to shove his dick in, he doesn't. He gathers up a little saliva, spitting it onto his fingers just enough to wet them up and then brings them down and pushes one in. It's noticeably easy, Steves index finger sliding in like its nothing. Like he can take whatever Steve wants to give him, however he wants to give it to him. 

He pushes in another finger, screwing it in, and then a precautionary third. His spit has dried a little so Bucky's ass squeezes around it and it's like Steve's dick can feel it too. He fucks his fingers in deep, trying not to completely think with his dick, just long enough to get him open. 

Bucky's fingers clutch at his sleeves under the cuffs, mouth bitten and he keens out a sound as Steve fucks him on his fingers. “Where are they?” He asks. 

Bucky's eyes open wide, lost and fuck dumb. 

“I'm not finding the drugs. Am i just not looking deep enough?” 

Mutely, Bucky shakes his head, pushing his ass back for more. 

“Maybe i need to get in there deeper.” Steve considers, giving his fingers a final twist before pulling them free. 

Bucky keeps his mouth open, looking like shit, like he just got jumped, but his pupils are big in his eyes and his hands squeeze and curl and god he wants it bad. Steve quickly lets go of his neck and grabs for his own zipper, yanking it down so he can slip his dick out of his boxers, just enough to get it out. 

Twisting his head back, Bucky tries to to get a good look, watching as Steve spits onto his palm and strokes it in. His eyes are dark and gone and desperate.

“You want this?” Steve asks, pulling at his dick before he slaps it against the side of Bucky's ass. It's worthless to ask though. Bucky makes a sound, something unintelligible and Steve spits down, luckily landing a string of spit onto his dick and then starts pushing in before he can even respond. Of course he does, he thinks.

Steve’s insistent, shoving in slowly, Bucky's ass tight around his dick until he can fully fuck in. 

He lets his fingers dig sharply into Bucky's hips, taking no time to get at fucking him. His hips move quickly and Bucky fucking cries, face scraping against the wall. 

Steve packs his dick in and uses him, pulling him back into his thrusts until Bucky's just a mess against the bricks, knees nearly giving out. He grunts and huffs and takes it all, cuffed hands stretching out to pull at the front of Steve's shirt, clawing at him desperately. But god, it's good, Steve thinks, the spit not doing much to keep from there being a drag and Bucky cried out a little pained but it's great for Steve.

Eventually Bucky starts drooping, body fucked loose. Steve lets go of his hips, settling on grabbing him by the biceps. It takes a second to get a grip without the rhythm of his hips faltering but when he does, bruisingly tight, he manages to heft Bucky up, stepping him forward just enough to get him shoved by the chest back into the wall. He drops him against him, pulling out to spit onto his own dick again, to get things a little more slick, before he fucks back in.

Bucky groans, breath punched out with Steves thrusts and Steve's fucking gone for already. 

He reaches a hand around, grabbing at Bucky's dick and pulls him as quick as he can work his hand. Hips fucking in deep, smacking solidly against him until he's stuttering, body wracked, head fucked, as he shoots his load up into him. 

Bucky stutters, hands twisting as Steve uselessly squeezes at his dick until his mind catches up enough to actually get him off and it takes nothing, just a minute of stroking at him until he's shooting off against the bricks, sighing with it.

Steve sags forward against Bucky, pulling his dick free slowly as he bites at the nape of his neck again, just because he can. The last bites are bruises now, red circles, and Steve just adds more. Right on the back of his neck where no one will even see it. Bucky's so oversensitized that it makes him shiver, gets him whining. 

Finally Steve pulls back, breathing hard as he carelessly yanks Bucky's drawers up, not bothering to button them so they just fall over his ass. He can't pull them up with his hands cuffed but it's good enough he supposes. It's better than nothing.

But then that makes him realize that he's supposed to be arresting the guy...Fuck

At this point he's not even sure what for. 

Trespassing? Sure. 

He pulls Bucky back, causing him to stumble as he begins walking him towards his cruiser. 

"You have the right to remain silent.” He mumbles, words lazy, post cum high, “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court.”

Bucky jolts his head back, glaring at Steve until Steve gets him near the car and turns him around. 

And shit- his face is fucked, Steve thinks. His cheek rubbed raw and scraped, lip bleeding, curve of his jaw already bruising. All from the wall alone. 

“You're still trying to to fuckin’ arrest me?” He asks, voice pitched up. 

“Yep, you're trespassing on private property.” 

Bucky's eyes squint, mouth a flat line. 

Steve cant keep himself from grinning. 

“You're a shit cop,” Bucky grumbles, annoyed. 

Still though he lets Steve manhandle him into the back of the car. Wincing when his ass gets pushed down onto the awful plastic seating back there. 

Steve shuts the door behind him and then quickly climbs into the driver's seat. 

For a second he just sits, letting the silence fill the car, thinking of what he could possibly say in that moment, maybe he should apologize, he thinks, maybe ask him how he feels. 

But Bucky speaks first. 

“My face hurts,” he mumbles, wincing. “I hate you.”

“No you don't,” Steve responds sincerely, knowingly.

Bucky's voice has gone soft like it always does when he gets fucked, “Could i at least ride up front?” 

Steve scowls, reprimanding, “Absolutely not, you're a prisoner.” 

“But my ass hurts.” 

“That's not my fault.” 

Bucky drops his mouth open, stunned, “That doesn't even make sense,” he whines. His arms wiggle in the cuffs, scraping the seat behind his back and Steve can see in the mirror that his hoodie is bunched up awkwardly. Steve has to force himself not to sympathize for him. Not to kiss all the scratches on his face just yet.

“Aren't you supposed to be off duty today?” Bucky asks softly. Steve watches as his mouth turns, slowly smiling, smug. 

“Yep,” Steve replies, nodding. 

Suddenly Bucky starts shuffling again,failing to find a way that doesn't either hurt his ass, wrists, or face. “These handcuffs hurt too.” 

And- okay- okay that's enough Steve thinks, it's past eleven and Bucky's poor face is bleeding and he's probably bruised to hell and he he looks worn the fuck out. “Fine,” Steve grumbles, stepping out to open the back door. 

Bucky slides out awkwardly, legs shaky, hissing in discomfort until he can slump himself against the side of the cruiser so Steve can unlock his cuffs. 

Once he gets them off Steve turns him, grabbing him by the triceps to tug his arms up so he can kiss at the redness of his wrists. Even with the hoodie sleeves under them his wrists are rubbed raw, bruised from being tugged. 

He lets go so Bucky can stretch his arms out, grabbing him by the chin instead. Deciding to leave the scrapes alone, noting to load him down with bandaids when they get home. 

Bucky smiles, breathless, “What happened to a date?” 

“You had to work.” 

“So arresting and destroying me was your backup plan?” 

“Yep,” Steve nods.

“You're perfect,” Bucky says, grinning as he yanks Steve down into a kiss. It's all tongue and desperation and Bucky goes pliant against him as Steve kisses his fucked up lip.

Finally, Steve pulls away, sighing as Bucky looks back at him like he can't let him go and Steve mumbles, “Happy anniversary, criminal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Im back to the not bingo porn yayyy!!!
> 
> Title comes from a song by the police...get it. I'm hilarious. I'm so funny. I'm a comedic genius.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated. Here's my [Tumblr!](http://www.tyranttirade.tumblr.com)


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